Harry Potter: an Alternate Conclusion
by xMusicallyAd3ptx
Summary: The age of the Dark Lord has begun. An alternate conclusion to the Harry Potter legacy. Read to find out more. Warnings: character death, language.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Potter Canon: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Chapter 34_

**The Age of the Dark Lord has begun.**

**Bold=Canon and Voldemort  
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Normal=Fiction

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

**Harry's Perspective**

**"I was, it seems… mistaken," said Voldemort.**

**"You weren't."**

**Harry said it as loudly as he could, with all the force he could muster: He did not want to sound afraid. The Resurrection Stone slipped from between his numb fingers, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw his parents, Sirius, and Lupin vanish as he stepped forward into the firelight. At that moment he felt that nobody mattered but Voldemort. It was just the two of them.**

**The illusion was gone as soon as it had come. The giants roared as the Death Eaters rose together, and there were many cries, gasps, even laughter. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, and he stared as Harry moved toward him, with nothing but the fire between them.**

**Then a voice yelled: "HARRY! NO!"**

**He turned: Hagrid was bound and trussed, tied to a tree nearby. His massive body shook the branches overhead as he struggled, desperately, pitifully.**

**"NO! NO! HARRY WHAT'RE YEH -?"**

**"QUIET! **YOU HALF-WIT OAF!**" shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand Hagrid was silenced.**

**Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind the Dark Lord's head.**

**Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, at least fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth. **

**"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."**

**None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, her eyes wild. Harry inexplicably though of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips upon his-**

**The Dark Lord had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear -**

**He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.**

**Voldemort's Perspective**

**"****I was, it seems… mistaken****," **said Voldemort, his silk-like tone tinged with slight uncertainty and a pinprick of disconsolation. _He was wrong. The boy had not shown himself. Maybe he was wrong about Potter's morals, after all._

"**You weren't."**

Voldemort froze instantly at the confident voice: _had his mind betrayed him?_

He revolved his body slowly, tentatively, as if unsure of what he would find behind him. Relief washed through his body; alas, before him, looking like the smug little hero Voldemort always knew him to be, stood the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.

The Dark Lord's scarlet eyes instantly became ablaze with malicious arrogance.

_Of course he could not have been mistaken: the Potter boy's unfailing sense of comrade-preservation would undoubtedly undo him. It was quite sickening; how he would lay down his own life in exchange for the measly existences of Muggles and Mudbloods._ Voldemort smirked, his lips curving into a malevolent grin: _Harry Potter's final downfall would be due to his own disgusting morals._

Now, as he looked down upon his bespectacled, pitiful opponent-

"**HARRY! NO!"**

The crazed bellow sounded from somewhere behind and to the right of Voldemort's position. Voldemort jerked his head toward the sound.

Hagrid, the inane, half-giant groundskeeper, who probably couldn't tell his right foot from his left, stood helplessly bound to a large tree, his dirt-covered features distorted in terror and franticness.

The Dark Lord's crimson eyes slit in annoyance at the dim-wit's shout of desperation.

_Foolish oaf._

"**NO! NO! HARRY WHAT'RE YEH -?"**

Voldemort opened his mouth to silence the boor, but Rowle beat him to it.

"**QUIET! **YOU HALF-WIT LOUT!"

A bang echoed through the clearing as Hagrid was silenced. The attention shifted back to the two nemeses, who now stared one another down.

The time had come.

"**Harry Potter**," he said, a cruel air of complacency surrounding his cold, high voice. "**The Boy Who Lived**."

Voldemort smirked with cruel satisfaction as the boy briefly twitched.

"**Come to die**."

Potter's expression clouded over, growing distant. _Perhaps he's contemplating his own naivety. Away with these thoughts: the deed must be completed._

The Dark Lord nonchalantly raised his wand.

He cocked his head ever so slightly, as doubtful thoughts poured through his mind. _Will he die? Truly? He must; there is no other way._ He banished the thoughts as he prepared to utter the curse.

Ruby eyes bored into emerald ones.

"**Avada Kedavra**."

A green flash filled the clearing. And with that, The Boy Who Lived fell before him, dead.

_**..:0:..**_

**Voldemort's Perspective-(_Chap 36)_**

Voldemort staggered.

Clutching his chest with his non-wand wielding hand, he roughly dropped to the forest floor on one knee. A blinding pain had erupted from the centre of his breast, as if he had been dealt a harsh blow from a hammer. Voldemort's mind raced wildly, searching for a conclusion to the unexpected pain.

_What had happened? Had the curse affected him, as it did Potter? What could this mean?_

Suddenly, within the deep recesses of Voldemort's dark and tortured mind, everything clicked.

A part of his soul must have perished along with Potter. A seventh Horcrux.

_But was the boy really dead?_

Voldemort was abruptly torn from his thoughts as his minions surrounded him, their squawks of concern reaching his ears. Devoted Bellatrix reached down and grasped ahold of his right arm, which was resting upon his knee, crying out,

"**My Lord, let me-."**

Irritation coursed through him, much like the kind that would be derived from an irksome mosquito.

"**I do not require assistance,**" he bit out, throwing Bellatrix aside forcefully. Rising to his feet and drawing up to his full, intimidating height, he refocused upon the crumpled boy before him. Calling out to the general audience, he asked,

"**The boy… is he dead?"**

No one made effort to respond to Voldemort's inquiry.

Feeling his irritation beginning to return, he peered around the forest clearing, his gaze halting upon the presently terrified visage of Narcissa Malfoy. His snake-like face twisted in spite.

_Her._

"**You**," he said, shooting a hex at Narcissa. She yelped in pain. "**Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.**"

She stumbled forward towards the carcass of Potter. Voldemort watched intently as the Malfoy woman knelt beside the corpse, seemingly checking for vitals. After several long, drawn-out moments, Narcissa stood up rigidly straight. She faced the crowd, and called to the onlookers,

"**He is dead!**"

Instantaneously, the air enveloping Voldemort exploded with cheers of triumph and wild stamping of feet. Red and silver curses shot into the air, illuminating the gleeful faces of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix shouted jeers at Potter's deceased form. Over the commotion, he even heard the strangled bawls of the mangy groundskeeper. For the second time in that hour, relief flooded through his body.

He let out a jubilant cry.

"**You see?**" Voldemort screeched over the tumult, his eyes feral. "**Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! **_**Crucio!**_"

Voldemort watched in licentious delight as Potter's lifeless body was lifted violently into the air. It soared about, jerking and twisting; once, twice, three times, his body bent into grotesque and unnatural shapes.

He cackled, a cold and mirthless sound that was a thousand times reciprocated throughout the clearing.

_He had won! The Boy Who Lived was dead before him; fallen by his own hand! With Potter gone, no one, Order of Phoenix or not, could touch him now! The last bastion of their foolish virtues, Hogwarts, was seconds away from his unsullied conquering!_

"**Now,**" said Voldemort, and the revelry ceased immediately, "**we go to the castle and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body?****" **he glanced around the clearing, his eyes falling upon the sobbing groundskeeper. "**No-.** **Wait-.**"

He flicked his wand, and Hagrid fell to the forest floor, rid of his bonds. With another flick, the beastly man was forcefully up-righted, standing stiff as a board.

"**You carry him,**" Voldemort said, his voice alive with exuberance at Hagrid's extreme distress. "**He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses-, put on the glasses-, he must be recognizable-."**

The Death Eaters howled with laughter as Hagrid gently picked up the boy and Dolohov subsequently slammed the glasses back onto their owner's face. Their mirth increased as Hagrid began to sob harder, great tears falling upon the figure in his massive arms.

Through the pandemonium of levity, Voldemort's voice rang out,

"**MOVE!**" he commanded, and Hagrid stumbled forward at the swish of his wand.

So began the victorious army's progression through the Forbidden Forest; the croons and crows of the Death Eaters and the sobs of Hagrid creating a massive uproar: _surely Hogwarts would now be aware of its defeat, _thought Voldemort.

The Dark Lord himself marched at the helm of his legion, his face twisted in a mixture of smugness and jocularity. To his right, Hagrid bumbled along, Potter's body in his tree-trunk-like arms. Directly behind the two, the battalion of Death Eaters whooped and hollered, marching jubilantly through the forest, and further behind them, two colossal giants, Prometheus and Polyphemos, clambered. The enormous feet of the giants' pounded the earth and caused it to tremble in their wake.

The triumphant progression marched on, birds and animals fleeing its path; the resulting din could be heard miles and miles away. As they began drawing closer to the forest edge, Voldemort heard a pained, yet livid bellow to his immediate right.

"**BANE!**"

Voldemort turned his head slightly in the direction of the shout: it was Hagrid; his angry shout directed at a small band of centaurs, far off to their right, who were silently observing the joyous promenade.

"**Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn't fight, yeh cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter's- d-dead-."**

The asinine beast-man could not continue his tirade against the by-standing centaurs, for he was overcome by a fresh wave of sobs. Voldemort silenced the hairy half-giant with a flick of the Elder Wand. Behind him, the Death Eaters shouted scattered insults at the centaurs, which were falling farther and farther behind the procession.

As they neared the very edge of the forest, Voldemort cried out, his voice as cold and clear as the daybreak:

"**Stop!"**

Voldemort heard the entire Death Eater brigade come to an instant halt, and Hagrid lurched to a sojourn beside him. The leader of the conquering promenade silently raised his hands to the sky, inhaling deeply of the air. A frosty chill suddenly fell upon the procession, akin to someone dumping a bucket of ice-water upon their heads. Dementors, black and gaunt against the cold, dreary sky, circled about the air above Voldemort's army. The Dark Lord lowered his arms.

Raising his wand to his throat, he pressed the tip of his wand into the hollow of his neck,

"**Harry Potter is dead,****" **came his cold voice, magically amplified, "**He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your precious hero is indeed gone."**

"**The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and your lives shall be spared. Your parents and children, brothers and sisters shall live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."**

Voldemort's smooth voice died away, echoing throughout the land. Minutes passed, with Voldemort's impassioned elocution being met by a resounding silence from the castle and its grounds. Removing his wand from its position at his neck, he turned to Hagrid.

"**Come, you miserable oaf**."

Voldemort embarked forward, and Hagrid jumped to a start, forced to follow. The Dark Lord reached one arm down as he walked, and Nagini, the great snake, slithered up his outstretched limb and draped itself around his shoulders. The Death Eaters, following their master, began their forward march once more, paired with gleeful shouts and yells.

"**Harry," **sobbed Hagrid**. "Oh Harry… Harry…"**

"**Quiet, fool! Or you shall become like your dead friend!**" Voldemort spat, looking back upon Hagrid's weeping form.

Voldemort returned his head to its original forward pose, and found they were now very close to Hogwarts castle.

"**Stop.****"**

The ensuing army came to a quick halt at his command. At a quick motion of his hand, the legion of Death Eaters began to filter out; forming a sideways line that stretched out on either side of the Dark Lord, who remained in the center. Eagerly, they waited.

Slowly, the defeated began to flow from the Entrance Hall.

At any moment, they would recognize the corpse of their savior, lifeless in the arms of Hagrid.

"**NO!**"

The scream came first from Minerva McGonagall, who led the conquered out onto the grounds. Bellatrix erupted into a fit of laughter from Voldemort's right; glorified in the old woman's despair. As the entrance began to fill out with the survivors, more screams of despair and anguish rented the air.

"**No!"**

"_**No!"**_

"**Harry! HARRY!"**

Voldemort rotated his head towards the last shouts, recognizing the broken faces of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Potter's little sidekicks. A sneer crossed the Dark Lord's face. _They should have known it would end this way._

The cries from Potter's sidekicks acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors took up the cause, hurling obscenities and abuse at the Death Eaters. Voldemort became furious.

"**SILENCE!**" he cried, and thrust his wand into the air with ferocity. A loud bang and a flash sounded from overhead, and silence was immediately forced upon the ragtag group of resistors. "**It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!****"**

The oaf obeyed without dispute, gently placing the deceased Boy Who Lived at his feet. Voldemort flicked his wand and Hagrid was violently thrown back onto the grass. A few Death Eaters sniggered.

"**You see?****" **said Voldemort, his voice high with contempt. He swung his foot into Potter's body. It tumbled forward and remained limp. "**Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!****"**

"**He beat you!**" came the wretched, blood-traitor Weasley boy's shout. Voldemort's silencing charm was suddenly broken, and the pitiful defenders of Hogwarts began to shout and scream again; Voldemort flew into a rage.

He extinguished their shouts with a powerful bang from his wand.

"**He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds!****" **the Dark Lord screeched, relishing the lie he was speaking. "**Killed while trying to save himself-,"**

Suddenly, a figure burst forth from the defeated, charging at the line of Death Eaters.

The slightly pudgy, masculine figure made it about halfway between the groups, before Voldemort lazily flicked his wand; the Death Eaters breaking out in peals of laughter as the boy fell to the ground, wandless and yelping.

Voldemort threw the challenger's wand aside and laughed.

"**And who is this?****" **said Voldemort, his voice hissing softly. "**Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?****"**

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

"**It's Neville Longbottom, My Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?**"

Voldemort reciprocated the laugh.

"**Ah, yes, I remember,****" **said Voldemort, his scarlet eyes peering down upon Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, still standing in the no-man's land between the survivors and the conquering Death Eaters.

Voldemort took several vast strides forward, coming to a halt before Neville. The boy was dwarfed by his height, a near seven feet tall.

"**But you are a pureblood, are you not, my brave boy?****" **he asked the little contester, who stood facing him, his empty hands balled into fists.

"**So what if I am?**" came Neville's loud reply.

"**You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.**"

"**I'll join you when hell freezes over," **said Neville."**Dumbledore's Army! **he shouted, and a nauseating cheer rose up from the survivors, whom Voldemort's silencing charm seemed unable to contain.

A scorching anger that could have set Hell itself ablaze burned through the Dark Lord's veins, but all that showed was a brief flash in his crimson eyes.

"**Very well,****" **said Voldemort, and there was so much hate within his silky voice it was almost tangible. **"****If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head,****"** he said quietly, "**be it.****"**

Voldemort raised his wand towards the castle and swished it through the air a single time. Moments later, through one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the air and landed in Voldemort's outstretched hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

"**There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School,****" **announced Voldemort. **"****For there will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?****"**

He pointed his wand at the sickeningly valiant, little boy, who grew rigid and still, then forced the Hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the surviving crowd, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the contemptible defenders at bay.

"**Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," **said Voldemort calmly, and with a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move. Voldemort laughed joyously, and the Death Eaters joined in. He raised his wand a second time, to finish the job-

And then many things happened at the same moment.

An uproar rose from the distant boundaries of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls, and pelted towards the castle, uttering raucous war cries.

Voldemort whipped around. Centaurs were charging in from all sides. He swiftly poised his wand, prepared to fight-

"**HAGGER!" **

Voldemort mechanically jerked towards the strident bellow. A giant lumbered around from beside the castle, yelling "HAGGER!" at the top of its earsplitting voice: Grawp. Voldemort's giants answered the newcomer: with loud cries they charged the opposing giant like bull elephants, causing the earth to quake.

Arrows rained down all around him; the twang of bows and thudding of hooves crashing down upon their ears. With a unified battle cry, the Death Eaters broke ranks, advancing in all directions.

Voldemort looked around at the scene before him. Death Eaters and defenders of Hogwarts clashed in battle, some downed by arrows and some by curses. Potter's body was missing, but there was no time to worry about that-

A loud grunt sounded from behind the Dark Lord.

Voldemort turned.

Neville Longbottom, broken free of his magical bonds, reached inside the still flaming Sorting Hat and extracted something long and silver, with a glittering, rubied handle-

The withdrawing of the sword could not be heard of the roar of battle, yet it seemed to draw every eye-

Harry Potter, under the safety of his Invisibility cloak, fumbled for his wand. He found nothing. His wand had fallen from the depths of his cloak whilst he was carried by Hagrid; an unfortunate twist of fate-

Longbottom dashed for Nagini, the Sword of Gryffindor poised above his head-

But the Dark Lord was faster.

Longbottom dashed madly for Nagini, and Voldemort jerked up his wand, aiming at the boy-

"_**Avada Kedavra!**__" _he screamed, his silky voice alight with the inferno of his fury.

A flash of green light could be seen from the wand of Lord Voldemort, but the incantation was lost in the din.

The bolt of emerald collided with the boy's chest, but the Blade of Gryffindor found its mark, and the head of Nagini the Great Snake flew high into the air. Voldemort opened his mouth and let out a bloodcurdling scream of fury: a scream so intense it must have shook every bone in that entire field-

The body of Nagini thudded to the ground, and Voldemort fell to his knees, reaching for his deceased snake, and one thought ran through the minds of everyone present in that bloody battlefield-

Neville Longbottom was dead, but he had succeeded in his last attempt to defeat the Dark Lord.

The body of the noble boy crumpled to the earth, a glassy look over his eyes-

"NOOOOO!" came a scream of anguish from somewhere within the heat of battle.

Chaos reigned. The Death Eaters, propelled by their master's defeat of valorous Neville Longbottom, the assumed head of the remaining survivors, rushed forward, shooting hexes and curses into the crowd of defenders, who too were boosted, by the death of Nagini, Voldemort's last form of security.

A reverberating boom crashed down upon the ears of the fighters as one of the Death Eater's own giants crushed the skull of the Hogwart's giant, Grawp; the resulting thud echoing over the battle-

_Nagini…_

Voldemort kneeled upon the grass, the body of precious Nagini held gingerly in his arms-

"**HARRY! WHERE'S HARRY!"**

The frantic cry had come from behind him.

_I shall have my revenge, Nagini…_

Intense wrath surged through Voldemort like magma. Dropping the body of the Great Snake, he rose to his feet with a new, vengeful power.

Voldemort quickly spotted the perpetrator of the shout: Hagrid. He was glancing about wildly, his panicked roars carrying over the cacophonous sounds of war. Hagrid's massive head whipped about, his beard covered in dust and dirt, eyes frantically scanning the blood-stained and ripped turf. Hagrid's eyes fell upon the Dark Lord.

"VOLDEMORT!" he bellowed, raising his arms into a forward position, stretched out, as if to strangle Voldemort. "-HARRY!" was the only distinguishable word in his frenzied outcry.

The half giant rushed forward with the rage of a bull.

The burly groundskeeper was surprisingly quick for his size, but Voldemort was many times more dexterous.

Voldemort swished his wand once, sharply and to the left, and Hagrid's large legs were swept out from beneath him. He crashed to the ground with a loud thud.

"_**You fool!**__" _Voldemort screeched_. "__**You dare challenge the Dark Lord!**__" _

By the time Voldemort had finished his last statement, Hagrid was already back upon his feet. Voldemort's wand swished again, and Hagrid plunged to the earth once more, face forward.

"_**Stop, Hagrid! Potter is dead! Join me now, and I will spare you! It is useless to continue this defiance!"**_

Voldemort flicked his wand upwards, and Hagrid flew up to his knees, immobile. The Dark Lord walked up to him, and jabbed the tip of his wand into Hagrid's enormous neck.

"_**Join me Hagrid! State your allegiance!**"_

Hagrid spat at the Dark Lord's feet. "I'll never join yeh, yeh vile-"

Voldemort's eyes slit dangerously, and withdrawing his wand from Hagrid's neck, he flicked it, silencing the half-giant before he could finish his sentence.

"_**So be it**__."_

Time seemed to crawl to a standstill.

Voldemort lifted the Elder Wand, and stared with eyes slit in detest into Hagrid's now-terrified, dirt-stained face.

A beat passed.

"_**Sectumsempra!**_"

A flash of white light emitted from the Deathstick.

An unearthly scream was loosed from the throat of Hagrid, as his massive chest was ripped open by an invisible sword.

The groundskeeper fell to his knees, a river of scarlet blossoming from his breast. He remained upon his knees for several moments, swaying slowly back and forth, before he tipped backwards, toppling to the grassy earth with a thud. He lay upon the ground, extremities twitching, for several minutes, as blood decanted profusely from the wounds upon his chest and out of his open mouth.

Voldemort lifted his foot and brought it down, hard, upon Hagrid's bleeding chest.

"_**You should have joined me, Hagrid**_," he started, voice low and hissing like a serpent-

"HAGRID!" came several distressed shouts, and Voldemort smirked: the groundskeeper drew his last breath, and died. The Dark Lord gave a cry of pure ecstasy and levitated the body of the fallen groundskeeper.

"_**Look! Look my minions! See who I have bested! The beast himself!" **_he cried in jubilance.

At this sight, the force of Death Eaters gave a unanimous roar of joy and newfound enthusiasm. They whooped and hollered, mocking the lifeless form of Hagrid and throwing hexes at it. All amidst them, some of the defenders of Hogwarts fell to their knees and wept in pure anguish, while others became wild with newborn rage and fought with intensity.

Throwing Hagrid's lifeless body aside with a flick of his wand, Voldemort started forward, straight into the heat of battle.

_Another had fallen to the hands of the Dark Lord._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Author's Note: To clear up confusion, Voldemort's words are bold AND italic. Sorry for that. Oh, and one more thing, please review! Many thanks!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_**..:0:..**  
><em>

The battle raged on, as thestrals and a lone hippogriff flew down upon the Death Eaters and clawed at them, while Voldemort's giants tried in vain to bat them out of the sky.

Voldemort began forward with an indomitable gait, his looming figure and pale, snake-like face standing out in the raging battle as he coolly sauntered through it, shooting jets of diverse colors of light at the resistors.

"_**Fight my minions! Fight for the Dark Lord**_**!"** he cried, rallying his comrades.

He was unconquerable; not a single curse or hex even grazed Voldemort, as he strode unharmed directly through the on-going skirmish, Hogwarts defenders falling cold at his feet. Screaming instructions to his followers, he fired curse after curse at the unfortunate defenders; they were no match for his supreme and prodigious skill. Stepping over corpses of Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, he passed through the battle, halting only to aid his subordinates. He approached the Great Hall.

Voldemort's eyes grazed over the ongoing onslaught.

Now there were more, even more defenders retreating up the front steps, and he watched in glee as Rodolphus Lestrange aimed his wand at a hapless Professor Slughorn, who was begging for mercy upon the steps.

A red-headed figure flew out of nowhere, from behind Slughorn, the figure's wand raised at Rodolphus, a fierce look of retribution upon his countenance.

"STUPEFY!" the red-headed boy shouted, and Rodolphus subsequently tumbled down the marble staircase, unconscious.

Voldemort did not hesitate.

"_**Avada Kedavra**__!"_ he screamed, his wand aimed at the ginger-haired figure.

The jade bolt flew inches from the boy's head, hitting harmlessly against a wall behind him-

"CHARLIE!"

Voldemort turned his head towards the shout, and caught a glimpse of another red-head, whose face was warped in anguish; his two eyes trained on Charlie Weasley, having seen the bolt of green light nearly kill his sibling.

Voldemort elevated his wand.

And suddenly the red-head was gone, disappeared into the sea of fighters. Voldemort scowled. He had escaped, for now.

Voldemort turned back towards Charlie Weasley, but he too was gone. His eyes moved to the motionless form of Rodolphus. He walked swiftly towards it. Approaching the unconscious Lestrange, he took aim with his wand.

"_**Ennervate." **_

Rodophus' eyes sprang open and he jumped to his feet, wand poised. He became aware of the Dark Lord's presence. He dropped to his knees, his hands clasped together and raised over his bowed head in gratitude.

"Thank you, my Lord!" he said, voice filled with an almost revoltingly wholehearted thankfulness.

"_**Go, Rodolphus, join your comrades in battle, and do not fail me!" **_Voldemort said, pointing to the Great Hall. Rodolphus shuffled forward on his knees and dipped his head low, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robe.

"I shall not," he said, rising to his feet. Without another word, he spun around and sped off in the direction of the sounds of fighting.

Suddenly, Voldemort was aware of what sounded like the squeaks of a thousand animals behind him, in the Entrance Hall. Revolving his head, he caught sight of an extremely strange spectacle.

The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the Hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog's voice audible even above the din: "**Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of the house elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!**"

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of his loyal Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and Voldemort watched in disgust and frustration as his minions folded under the sheer numbers of the horde of house elves.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed; _even the house elves fight for Hogwarts, and my Death Eaters cower from them!_

Hot anger shot through him, and with a large, sweeping flourish of his wand, he brought the tip down in one great flick, crying,

"_**CONFRINGO MAXIMA**__!" _

All hell broke lose.

A massive explosion erupted from the center of the house elf onslaught, sending charred and dismembered bodies of the elves in all directions, showering over the fighters in the Hall. Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike dove in an effort to save themselves from the explosion and rubble, the latter showering over the area like meteorites.

Wasting no time, Voldemort proceeded into the cloud of dust and smoke created by the powerful spell.

The scene was utterly catastrophic.

Bits and pieces of house elves and fighters littered the ground, and a massive crater had formed where the spell had slammed into the earth. Groans of pain and agony floated to his ears from all around, as survivors of the blast lay upon the ground, wounded and disoriented, moaning for mother, or spouse, or death.

He smiled at his handiwork.

Voldemort strode through the pain and destruction, his obsidian cloak billowing behind him. Those that remained alive grew pled with him as he passed, but he paid them no attention. He scanned the debris-laden locale and his eyes fell upon one tiny prostrate figure in particular: Kreacher.

His eyes narrowed.

The house elf lay upon the ground, breaths coming in hurried and pained gasps, blood pouring from several large gashes on his bald head. As Voldemort approached the injured house elf, it turned its elongated head in his direction and let out a wheezy laugh.

"Shall the Dark Lord show this old and battered house elf mercy?" it croaked, half-laughing, half-beseeching.

At this, the Dark Lord cackled, raising his wand at the tiny elf.

"_**If it were only that easy. I shall spare you, Kreacher, if you join me. Join me, Kreacher, and you shall live. Reject your master, for Potter is dead. You are free from him; you are your own elf. Join me, Kreacher, and you shall live fruitfully under me. Join me, Kreacher, or I will be forced to bring this punishment down upon you**_**.**"

The house elf stared into Voldemort's scarlet eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before he whispered, his bullfrog voice barely audible above the moaning of the wounded,

"My servitude belongs not to you…"

Quicker than the eye could have seen, Voldemort slashed his wand through the air, and poor, dying Kreacher became engulfed in flames.

Whipping around, the Dark Lord departed from the hall, leaving it, and the screams of the burning house elf, behind.

Returning to the Great Hall, he discovered a wild and raging battle occuring; the defenders of Hogwarts seemed to be gaining an edge-

The Death Eaters detected the arrival of their master.

The tides turned.

Voldemort watched as George Weasley and Lee Jordan were slammed to the floor by the combined forces of Yaxley and Walden Macnair, watched as Flitwick fell with a scream at Dolohov's hands, watched Hannah Abbot and Seamus Finnegan collided with a solid stone wall, thrown by Rabastan Lestrange. He watched as Fenrir Greyback tackled the youngest Weasley boy, Rookwood Stunning Aberforth Dumbledore, Thicknesse flooring the Weasley father and his son, Percy. He even glimpsed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their son.

A curse skimmed the side of Voldemort's head.

He jerked towards his attacker, infuriated.

It was not one attacker, but three: McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kinglsey stood before him, wands poised.

With an enraged roar, he began to duel, his wand moving in a blur, firing inexorable curses at his three challengers. They wove and ducked around him, unable to land a blow-

To his right, Bellatrix was fighting as well, dueling three opponents at once, like her master: Mudblood Granger, the Weasley girl, and the daughter of that nutter, Lovegood, all fighting their little hearts out, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Voldemort watched as a Killing Curse narrowly missed the Weasley girl-

"**NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"**

The eldest Weasley woman charged faithful Bellatrix, her wand drawn. Bellatrix roared with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

**"OUT OF MY WAY!" **she roared at Bellatrix's three previous challengers, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Voldemort watched with ire and trepidation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet becoming hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

The remaining fighters in the room stopped, watching intently as the two witches dueled.

"**What will happen to your children when I've killed you?"** taunted Bellatrix, eyes wild, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "**When Mummy's gone the same way Freddie?**"

"**You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!" **screamed the Weasley woman.

Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her blood-traitor cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backwards through the veil, and suddenly the Dark Lord knew what was going to happen before it did.

Molly's curse soared straight at Bellatrix, and Voldemort knew he must act. Fury surging through him, Voldemort slashed his wand sideways across the air, and McGonagall, Kingsley, and Sprout were violently blasted backwards, flailing and writhing through the air. Swifter than the curse that flew towards Bellatrix, he screamed out:

"_**PROTEGO!**_**"**

A massive shield erupted before Bellatrix, and the curse bounced harmlessly off of its pearly boundary. Voldemort turned towards the Weasley woman, and raised his wand, directing it towards her motherly form-

"_Protego!"_

Suddenly, another pearlescent shield erupted, this time, in front of Molly Weasley-

Voldemort's eyes widened slightly, but then instantly became slit with anger in an instant.

He whipped around; searching for the defiant one, believing it was an act of rebelliousness-

There, with a look of coolness on his bespectacled face, stood Harry Potter.

"**Harry! HE'S ALIVE!" **came the yells of shock, cheers, and screams from both sides, but they were soon stifled, as the gravity of the situation weighed down upon them.

Voldemort's mind raced wildly in a fraction of a second.

_Potter! How! This cannot be! I KILLED HIM IN THE FOREST! It can't be- No…the Horcrux inside Potter. How could he have been so blind to this?_

But contrary to his thoughts, his snake-like face instantaneously became a calm visage of confident certitude.

_One shall live, the other must die. _He knew this to be true, and all the pieces fit together inside his mind. _They must duel one another. A true test of skill. He would not fall to Potter. _

Immediately, the two enemies began to circle each other.

"**I don't want anyone else to try and help**," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "**It's got to be like this. It's got to be me**."

Voldemort hissed.

"_**Potter doesn't mean that**_," he said, his red eyes wide. "_**That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"**_

"**Nobody,**" said Potter simply. "**There are no more Horcruxes; -,"**

Grief tinged Voldemort as the statement hit his ears. _Nagini…_

"-**it's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"**

_**Read the rest of Voldemort and Harry's conversation, I have changed nothing, but I didn't put it in here. One more side note, Harry was unable to save Hagrid or Neville because the and he was carrying at the time of their deaths had fallen from his cloak, whilst he was carried by Hagrid on the Death Eaters march out of the Forest. Furthermore, the reason Harry could not save anyone else, such as Kreacher, from Voldemort as he passed through Hogwarts, was because Harry had returned to the Forest to retrieve it.**_

"**So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?**" whispered Harry. "**Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand.**"

No one moved; the air was still for a moment, tranquil and unmoving-

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. The high voice shrieked and Harry yelled as well, both voices mixing together-

"_Expelliarmus!_"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

As the two spells collided, Voldemort gave one, final push of will: a fierce burst of magical power from deep inside him that he put behind that ultimate curse, a burst so strong it could overcome the magic of the Elder Wand, overcome Death itself…

The resulting bang of the spells was like a cannon blast, and strangely black flames that had erupted between them at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Everyone watched as both Harry and Voldemort stood unmoved, but the wand of Draco Malfoy that Harry Potter had been wielding flew high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, the magic of the Elder Wand having been overcome by the sheer will of the most powerful wizard the world has ever known, Voldemort. And the crowd watched as the Boy Who Lived fell backward, arms splayed, the pupils of his emerald eyes rolling upward. Harry Potter hit the floor with irrevocable finality, his body feeble and shrunken, his hands empty, his boyish face vacant and unknowing. Harry Potter was dead, killed by Voldemort's tremendous curse, which overcame even the most ancient of magic that was the Elder Wand, and now the champion stood, Elder Wand in hand, a new, incredible magic flowing through his veins, staring down upon his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Voldemort as the anguished screams and jubilant cries of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun that had risen between Voldemort and Potter seemed to grown dim; the light it emitted was growing duller and duller by the second. The first to reach Voldemort were Bellatrix, Yaxley and Dolohov, who flew to his feet and began to worship him, the rest of the Death Eaters sealing exits and rounding up the defenders-

The sun began to sink behind Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with the joyous shouts of Death Eaters and the intermittent celebration hex shot into the air. Voldemort was an indispensable part of the outpourings of triumph and elation, standing tall and commanding at the apex of it all.

And even above the uproar, a thrilled cry pierced the air:

"_**I have done it!"**_ screamed Voldemort, and he thrust the Elder wand into the air, a single black beam emitting from the tip and colliding with the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Enchanted surface instantly became grotesquely dark and black. He turned and with a swish for each one, blew out all the remaining windows, sending shards of glass everywhere.

The Death Eaters joined in, beginning to destroy any remaining relics, furniture, or fixtures in the Great Hall. The Hogwarts survivors stood or sat helplessly, all wailing, weeping, and mourning. Voldemort levitated the body of Potter and slammed it to the ground before his feet.

"_**It is over!" **_he cried.

Voldemort stood like a statue among the destruction and Death Eaters, who began to filter out from their master and encircle the defenders.

He turned and faced the mass of grieving survivors.

"_**Today,**_**" **Voldemort began, his cold voice cutting through them like a knife, silencing them, "_**you have witnessed two defeats of your precious hero, Harry Potter, by my hand; let no more defiance continue, for all of you have seen my power. Potter is dead. Look, his body lies before my feet; I have slain him. I shall spare all of you, but if you continue to oppose my reign, I will not hesitate to end you."**_

Voldemort's voice died away, and for several moments, no one spoke. He stepped over Potter's body moved forward, inspecting the remaining defenders.

Granger and the youngest male Weasley huddled together on the floor, their faces stained with tears and contorted in misery. Beside them, the Lovegood girl knelt beside the body of the Longbottom boy, whose body was apparently dragged into the Hall. Shacklebolt was to the other side of Granger and Weasley, bound with ropes and kneeling. McGonagall, Slughorn, and Sprout stood together, all extremely distressed and weeping. To the far right, the entire Weasley family was located, clinging to one another and grieving.

Voldemort approached Shacklebolt.

"_**Ah yes, the head of the Order of the Phoenix, am I correct?" **_he said, voice silky.

Shacklebolt did not respond, but stared directly up into the Dark Lord's face, unwavering and defiant. Voldemort smiled.

All eyes were trained on Conqueror and Conquered as they stared at one another.

"_**Avada Kedavra."**_

Voldemort spoke the Unforgivable as if it were nothing; his voice contained not even the tiniest qualm, but instead relish as the curse was uttered. A radiant green flash went through the Hall, and the survivors gasped and began to wail once more as Kingsley Shacklebolt fell to the ground with a thud, eyes empty and body limp.

Voldemort turned towards the crowd, who were either all cowering or staring at him with unbridled hate.

"_**Let this not happen again: cooperate, and I will not kill you,"**_ he said, voice now chilling and deadly. "_**Now, pay your Master your respects and bow before me, or I will be swift in judgment!"**_

He watched in satisfaction as nearly all of the survivors, scant for the youngest Weasley male and McGonagall lowered themselves into a prostrate position, some meaningful and some forced.

Voldemort cackled.

"_**So brave, you Weasleys,"**_ Voldemort said, slowly striding towards Ron; he would deal with McGonall afterwards. "_**I will give you one last chance, Ronald, or your entire family shall watch as you die."**_

Voldemort raised his wand and placed it between the Weasley's eyes, who stared unspeaking up at Voldemort, who towered over the boy at nearly seven feet in height.

"Just do it, Ron!" said the Granger girl, who had her head bowed, brown curls curtaining her face.

"Hermione, how could-,"

"_**SILENCE!"**_ shrieked Voldemort, who flicked his wand, causing Ron to fall immediately hushed. _**"Yes, do as she says Ronald, do as your little Mudblood friend has wisely advised-,"**_

It happened in a flash. Upon hearing the term "Mudblood", Ron had jumped to his feet, fists raised as if to strike Voldemort. In a second afterwards, Ron was suspended at least a foot above the ground, fingers scrabbling at Voldemort's long-fingered hand that held him tightly around the neck, choking him.

"_**FOOL!**_**" **Voldemort shrieked, and with a single, fluid twist of his wrist, broke the neck of Ronald Weasley.

"RON!"

The scream came from all over the room, and in an instant, Voldemort was aware that nearly all of the survivors had jumped to their feet and were charging the Death Eaters, who were laughing joyously at their attempt at a revolt. Voldemort released Ron's limp body and let it thud to the floor.

Voldemort watched as the final assault of the wandless defenders was instantly foiled, as the advancing Hogwartians were immediately cut down mercilessly by bolts of red light from the Death Eaters: Stunning Spells; Voldemort had ordered none to be harmed.

"_**ENOUGH!" **_cried Voldemort, and he extended his wand with ferocity; a deafening bang ensued as both Death Eaters and Survivors were thrown back, a shield placed between them. "_**Stop this insolence and cooperate! Bow!"**_

The non-Stunned survivors immediately resumed their bowed position, heads low to the blood and debris covered floor.

_**"I am your Master!" **_Voldemort shouted to the crowd of bowed Hogwartians. "_**Let this be ingrained upon your very soul: the Dark Lord's reign has begun, and he is your Master!"**_

The Death Eaters burst into loud cries of victory and jubilation and delight.

Voldemort continued:

"_**Hogwarts has fallen! It is mine!"**_

He thrust his wand into the air, and everyone present watched in awe as the very roof of the Great Hall was blasted clean off; so clean that no fragments rained down upon them.

He raised his hand to the Dark Mark upon his arm, and placed two fingers upon it; behind him, he heard the Death Eaters say as one:

"Morsmorde."

Voldemort looked into the sky and let out a joyous cry; the snake and skull were imprinted upon the sky even in the now fading daylight. Inhaling of the air, he looked back down upon the survivors.

A knot of mourners had gathered around three corpses: Shacklebolt, Ronald Weasley, and Longbottom; the grief-stricken people had their hands laid out on them.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

_**"Away from them!" **_he cried, and with a wave of his wand the mourners were blown backwards. _**"You will lament at the appropriate time! For now, I have much to settle in the wake of this war: the Ministry, all of you, and this castle, to name a few. For the Ministry, as dear Pius has perished, I have appointed at its head, Lucius Malfoy."**_

Gasps echoed around the Hall, and Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, head bowed and slightly shaking.

"T-thank you, m-my lord-," he began.

"_**Quiet, fool!" **_Voldemort hissed. "_**You have been chosen only because I perceive the leadership qualities in you. It is due to my mercy that as of now, you and your family are forgiven of your traitorous behavior and failures. Now go, begin the preparations for the Ministry."**_

Lucius backed away slowly..

"Yes, my lord," he said, his voice now sounding confident and smooth.

"_**Now, I must deal with you." **_Voldemort said, addressing to the crowd. He turned to the Death Eaters, who watched him with admiration and awe. "_**My faithful followers, the day we have waited so very long for has finally come, the day you all will all take the places in society you rightfully deserve, the day I have conquered my enemy, Harry Potter. As I am a generous master, you shall be rewarded for your actions in assisting me in claiming what is justly mine. As your prize, you may do with the females," **_he gestured towards the crowd of survivors, "_**as you like."**_

Hoots and shouts of approval broke out from the Death Eaters, who bowed to Voldemort and began to filter into the crowd of survivors, who were all suddenly magically trussed with ropes.

Voldemort watched as the Death Eaters perused the defenders of Hogwarts as if they were cattle. He watched as Draco Malfoy chose Hermione Granger, as Nott Sr. and his son Theodore selected the Lovegood girl, as Greyback dragged away a girl known as Katie Bell. He watched as Dolohov took two: Alicia Spinnet and Hannah Abbott, hauling them to the side by their collars. He watched with amusement as Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange grabbed ahold of bawling Fleur Delacour and ripped her from the arms of her shouting husband, Bill Weasley. He watched with a twisted smile as Blaise Zabini approached the Weasley girl, who was barred from him by three of her brothers, Charlie, George and Percy and her father, Arthur, who stood at the front.

"YOU WON'T TAKE HER!" Arthur shouted his face extremely red but eyes filled with panic.

"Out of my way," said Blaise lazily.

"NO!"

"If you do not move, I will kill you," stated Blaise, whose drawling voice was now tinged with irritation.

"YOU WILL NEVER TAKE HER FROM US!"

Blaise's eyes slit.

"So be it."

Blaise raised his wand, pointing it directly into the defiant face of Arthur Weasley.

But suddenly Voldemort's voice broke out over the hubbub, distracting Blaise, who lowered his wand.

"_**It is time! The trials shall commence!"**_


End file.
